


Welcome Home

by wannabewolfe



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-07
Updated: 2012-06-07
Packaged: 2017-11-07 04:34:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/426956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wannabewolfe/pseuds/wannabewolfe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles that give a peek into Hermione's life as she deals with growing up and finding out where she belongs. Rated T for language.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Welcome Home

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Man Unfathomable](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/9022) by laurielove. 



> I do not own any of the characters from the Harry Potter universe, this is all just for my fun. I welcome reviews and comments.
> 
> Also - I have to give due credit to Laurielove and her wonderful story - Man Unfathomable, where Hermione gets to interact with Captain Hook. It certainly was an inspiration for a portion of this story. Please don't let my clumsy attempt here dissuade you from checking out her terrific tale.

Year One

With the slam of the door, Hermione jolted and turned to look at the dreaded potions professor she had heard about. He was tall, with a frown affixed to his face. His black robes swept past her table as he made his way to the front of the classroom, his boots the only sound after he had called for silence. When he began to speak again, a sensation Hermione had not felt before worked it's way up her spine. She could sense this man was powerful, was intelligent and would not coddle them. Finally a real challenge - she couldn't wait to get started.

Year Two

"If only Professor Snape could see me now" Hermione thought as she made the final stir in the Polyjuice potion. Despite all of her initial hopes that potions would be her favorite class, he had made it clear from the start that he was not impressed with Ms. Granger. No matter how hard she tried, no matter if she raised her hand, if she stayed quiet, if she wrote her essay a foot too long or to the exact length, Professor Snape always found a way to cut her to the quick. But she never stopped wanting his approval. They had needed this potion to find out what Draco was up to, but Hermione also needed to do it to prove to herself that she was capable, much more capable than he ever gave her credit for.

She locked herself into the cubicle, crossed her fingers, closed her eyes and drank. Her skin felt as if it was rippling, her eyes burned in their sockets and it seemed as though every hair follicle itched. Once the uncomfortable sensations stopped, she opened her eyes and looked at her hands. One thought raced through her head: "Professor Snape is going to kill me."

Year Three

Tucking the golden hourglass back underneath her shirt, Hermione settled into the hidden alcove she had found on the Marauder's map. Too many classes and not enough rest was beginning to take it's toll on her and even Hermione knew it was time for a break when her head ached and it felt as though her brain was rebelling against her.

She decided to give herself a few hours of free time. A chance to relax, unwind and not worry about Harry, Ron or the pile of homework waiting in her bag. Clutching a book in one hand, she raised her wand in the other and transfigured her quill into a very comfortable looking chair and her handkerchief into a blanket. Settling into the chair with the blanket to help keep off the castle chill, Hermione delved into one of her favorite books as a child - Peter Pan. At this moment, she needed something familiar, something easy and something she could just lose herself in. This well-worn selection would do nicely.

A few hours later, she closed the book and found her head hurting in an entirely different way than it had before. The book had done it's job and whisked her away to another place, filled with a different sort of magic where she could fly and help the Lost Boys. Harry and Ron were a little too close to those Lost Boys if she really considered it, but what had her twisted around were her conflicting feelings about Peter. She had always fancied Peter with his carefree attitude and boyish charms, but now she found herself irrevocably intrigued by Captain Hook. When Wendy was being held captive on the ship, something prickled within her that she couldn't quite put her finger on. Although she didn't quite realize it, in her mind's eye Captain Hook had assumed a likeness similar to Professor Snape from her second year when he dueled Professor Lockhart. Peter was now just a sweet little boy and Hook was something...more.

Discomforted by her feelings, but realizing she was almost out of her allotted break time, she resolved next time to just take a nice long bath to relax instead.

Year Four

Unbelievable. Ron Weasley was just completely and utterly unbelievable. How dare he just assume that she would be waiting at his beck and call? Despite her hopes earlier that might finally realize that she was, in fact, a girl, he seemed just as clueless as ever. Why was she pining for him exactly? He might have that goofy, adorable charm and smile that could make her forget about her troubles for a moment but he was so blooming oblivious. Did she really want to be with someone like that? She left the Gryffindor table to let him stew in his own thoughts.

Gliding along the dance floor with her date, Hermione came to the conclusion that Victor didn't appear to be a much better match for her than Ron. He clearly realized she was a girl, but hardly spoke to her. He enjoyed listening, but she wanted to be part of a conversation, not give a bloody lecture.

Looking out to the crowd, she spotted a some of the professors chaperoning the ball and was that Fred and George attempting to alter the punch? Another turn and her eyes caught with Professor Snape's. He sneered but the reaction was so predicable, it almost made her laugh. Hermione couldn't help but give him a small smile before Victor pulled her attention back with a small squeeze to her waist. She looked up into Victor's dark eyes and was surprised by the hint of admiration there. She resolved to stay focused on him the rest of the night, good match or not. He might not be a great conversationalist, but at least he wanted to be here with her. And that, coupled the secret thrill of being with someone older, foreign and just a little bit dark was too much to resist. She might be a bookworm, but she wasn't made of stone.

Year Five

"Harry, you cannot give up on your Occlumency lessons!" Hermione was shrieking now but she didn't care. How could he just give up when there was so much at stake?

"You know that you have a connection with Voldemort and there is the very real chance that he might be able to read your mind. What if he discovered something, Harry? What if he discovers something in your mind that could lead to him hurting Dumbledore, giving him a way to break into the school, giving him a way to kill you?"

She brushed his complaints about Professor Snape away. The man was only trying to help and she could see that Harry's blind hatred of their Potions professor wasn't getting them anywhere. Harry was the brother she never had and at this moment, she could understand why siblings didn't always get along.

"You have been given the chance here to have private lessons from an expert Occlumens -" She brought her voice down in an effort to calm the situation. "I would give anything to have an opportunity like that, please don't throw it away."

Ron, apparently tired of swiveling his head back and forth between his two arguing friends chimed in with his two cents about exactly how he felt about the greasy git of a professor and how he felt about her always defending him. He was tired of hearing about how Headmaster Dumbledore trusted Snape. As far as he was concerned, the Headmaster was dead wrong about Snape and she was too.

Completely fed up, Hermione stormed away from the two, pulling on her hair and wishing that just this once, that she could have been the recipient of Harry's special lessons. She would have put forth the effort, she wouldn't let Professor Snape push her away. She would show him just what she could do and maybe, just maybe, he would be forced to recognize her. Sighing, she curled up on her bed and pulled her pillow close. Angry, hurt, frustrated and scared for Harry, she hoped that her friendship with Harry and Ron wouldn't be too damaged after this argument.

Year Six

Why hadn't he killed the three of them right on the spot? Why bother to just stun Professor Flitwick and tell us to look after him? If he was truly evil, wouldn't casting the killing curse on the three of them be of no consequence? She knew that she couldn't voice her thoughts to her two friends. But those doubts were still there and she couldn't reason them away, no matter how hard she tried.

Year Seven

"Don't you dare die, you bloody bastard!"

Her emotions running away from her, Hermione was shivering from fear after telling Harry and Ron to go ahead. Professor Snape was in horrible shape, barely hanging on, but she couldn't just leave him on the ground to die. She had to try.

She called her healing kit out from her beaded bag and poured potion after potion down his throat. A bezoar was tossed in for good measure. She cleaned his wound, ran the limited diagnostic spells she knew and even stitched up the gaping holes in his neck when it was clear that just putting pressure on them was not going to stop the flow of blood. She knew she had included the Muggle sewing supplies for a reason.

His eyes were shut, his pulse weak and his breathing labored. She had done all she could do and now needed to get him to the hospital wing, without being seen. She did her best to lay him flat on the ground and waved her wand over him, first petrifying him to keep him from moving and tearing the stitches and then a disillusionment spell to hide him from sight, she took advantage of the dropped apparition wards and took him straight into the hospital wing.

Madam Pomfrey was doing her best to keep her wits about her while in the midst of so much suffering. She didn't even notice Hermione at first. Hermione took advantage of the commotion to guide his body back to the isolation room she had discovered while working with the school healer during her 6th year. She placed his body on the bed, removed the petrifying spell and the disillusionment spell. The sheet remained, covering his face from view. She exited the room, warded the door with a password and pulled Madam Pomfrey aside.

After struggling so much with what had happened with the Headmaster and Professor Snape in the last year, Hermione finally had broken down and confided her thoughts to the Matron. Madam Pomfrey had also confessed that she still believed in Severus and that one day the truth would come to light. She had cared for him too many nights after he had been tortured, overheard too many conversations with Dumbledore and been witness to too many of his pain-induced mutterings to ignore the truth of his position.

After alerting Madam Pomfrey, Hermione rushed out to find Harry and Ron. They had unfinished business with a snake-faced bastard.

The War plus two years

She closed the book and it hit her like a sack of bricks. Ron was Pan and quite frankly, she was no longer interested in his childish charm. What is it about this book and revelations? She gave the cover a side-ways look, as if it was to blame for her current predicament. Ron was fine, just fine. But not "The One". He was too lighthearted, too carefree, just too much like Peter and not what set her on fire.

The old cliché bubbled up in her mind before she could stop it - "It's not you, it's me." Oh, that's going to go over well.

The War plus 5 years

All of this traveling was starting to get tiresome. Her position as International Muggle Liaison had taken her all over the world. She had seen so many wonderful sights, met many wonderful people but also saw many depressing sights and met many horrible people. Hadn't she fought in a war to end Muggle-Born prejudices? Sadly, romances were few and far between. If the constant travel didn't cause the flame to die out, then there was usually a spectacular blow-out row that did.

She was tired and ready for a slower pace of life. It was time to head back home.

The War plus 6 years

Oh Merlin, please get me out of this hell. Hermione was hunched over her desk at the Ministry, her new position in the Historical Records department decidedly less glamorous than her previous one, but she had jumped at the first opening back home she could. It was only later that she realized that once she had hidden her self down in the Records Hall, there would be no transferring out.

Another day finally over, she arrived back at her small flat to find an owl waiting for her. Feeding it a treat and sending it on its way, she opened the letter and sat down on her sofa in shock. A job at Hogwarts, a way out - oh thank Merlin and thank Headmistress McGonagall.

The War plus 7 years

Looking up at the castle, Hermione was filled with a sense of rightness that she hadn't felt in a very long time. She belonged here. When she thought of home, her parent's house wasn't what popped into her mind. It was this place. This drafty castle hidden away in Scotland had made a connection with her that no other area in the world had.

After quickly stowing her belongings in her new room, Hogwart's newest History of Magic professor made her way to the Great Hall. Turning the corner, in her haste she bumped into someone. Expecting it to be a student, she had to quickly look up to find her former dreaded Potions Professor looking down at her. At least he wasn't sneering at her this time. In fact, a smile was hinted in his eyes.

"Please excuse me Professor Snape. I am clearly in too much of a rush to get to the sorting feast."

"Indeed." His voice wrapped around her and through her and Hermione found that the power of speech had abandoned her in that moment.

"Shall we proceed?" He held his arm out to her, which she took gratefully and nodded.

The warmth of his arm, the flexing of his muscles and the smirk that now played on his face toyed with her emotions. She had always thought so highly of him. Wanted his respect, wanted his acknowledgement and later she realized, wanted his attention. He had brought out her first feelings of desire and while she had found much healthier outlets for those feelings at the time, he had become the crystallization of everything she would later find attractive in a man.

And now, well - things were looking up indeed.


End file.
